


Pale Empress

by The_Exile



Category: Dark Savior, Hyperdimension Neptunia
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Fusion, Fourth Wall, Froday Flash Fiction Challenge, Gen, Headcanon, Imprisonment, Mild Language, Sympathetic Villain, Time Loop, parallel six is real and obtainable in our lifetime
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-17
Updated: 2021-02-17
Packaged: 2021-03-12 14:20:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,363
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29511003
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/The_Exile/pseuds/The_Exile
Summary: As a last ditch survival mechanism, Climax seals herself in Carbon Freeze on Jailer's Island. After meeting the shadowy Goddess in the prison, she uses clones created in a contract with Arfoire to interact with the outside world.  Trapped in the same time loop that preserves their existence, both of them exist in a state half inside, half outside the island. However, it is not a perfectly enclosed system and some things (well, mostly Bilan) can be powerful enough to disrupt it. When Bilan comes after one of her shattered facets now roaming the island and the timestream, Climax is forced to call upon Arfoire for aid once again.
Relationships: Arfoire & Original Character(s)
Collections: Froday Flash Fiction Little & Monthly Specials 2021





	Pale Empress

Freshly brewed cup of tea in hand, Arfoire walked back into the passenger lounge. The arcade cabinet was still silent, unlit. She let out a sigh, then reached down to check that it was even plugged in. Turning it on at the wall, she reached out her other hand to touch the cabinet's shining lacquer panels. Corpse-pale and elegant, with long, elaborately manicured dark purple nails to match the coarsing veins of her forbidden power that streaked down her arms like poison thorns, she spread out the fingers of her hands to tap the 'Player One Start' button with a single nail.

The arcade was free to play anyway - part of the ferry's package deal, possibly to make up for the rickety old tub being likely to fall apart halfway across the ocean - but she would not have needed a coin. Dark power flowed through her fingers, lighting the whole machine up in midnight purples and blues, as if silhouetting how the game would look if she had succeeded in turning it on like a normal person. 

The game's music filled the air, simple but melodic and uplifting. She smiled as she found herself unable to stop humming along to it. 

There was a sadness to her tone as she reflected on her failure to turn the machine on normally. It had been the reason she took the boat in the first place rather than simply manifesting on the island in one of her many copies. Climax hated her using the doppelgangers unless it was absolutely necessary - the system had never been designed to create clones, they were an anomalous result produced when someone would otherwise exist twice in one place, a kind of error that was taxing on the already delicate system - but this was already an emergency. 

She hadn't realised how much of an emergency until she couldn't get that arcade cabinet, Climax's only remaining link to the outside world - and even then, the boat hardly counted as outside the system - to turn on. She'd come here specifically to test it, to make sure the situation really was as bad as she feared, but she knew that she now needed to be on the Island as quickly as possible.

She considered activating one of the Tracy clones from the boat but she wasn't sure if she was currently inside or outside of the system, what effect it would have if she got her calculations wrong. Besides, there were other things she could do on the boat right now, she supposed.

For instance, there were always plenty of other passengers to talk to...

* * *

The door swung open again. A torch flickered on. She turned to peer at him with feline-pupiled eyes, her irises also a faintly flowing violet. 

"What's going on? Why're you standing there in the dark?" he demanded. Then something else in the room caught his attention, "Oh, the arcade cabinet's back on?"

"For now. It needs proper maintenance once we get to port, though," she told him, "Anyway, I just finished playing, so its your turn. Your name is on the game's credits, I noticed."

"Uh, yeah, I think its just a coincidence. There's probably more than one Garian in the world," he grinned and scratched the back of his head, "I'm not actually very good at it, to be honest." 

"You'll get better. Is this your first time here?"

"I think so? Um, this probably sounds weird, but..."

"Time is confusing here, I know, and people get weird dreams. It must be a boat thing," she smiled, "You'll get used to that, too."

"I take it this isn't your first time?"

She laughed, "Oh, not by any means. Today is just a passing visit, though."

"What d'you mean?" he frowned.

I mean what you think I mean, stupid boy, she thought to herself, that I've been to this prison many times, for many crimes that you probably can't even imagine. Except that in reality I never left and probably never will, because that's how this place works, and they think its a punishment but its so, so much more. 

"Wait, how d'you know my name?" he demanded, but the lady was already walking out of the door.

"Little bird told me," she answered, "Now don't be late."

* * *

She'd checked in with Musashi and Bilan as well, before the boat pulled into the harbour. She'd almost gotten to talk to Kaiser and Jack but she'd lost her confidence at the last minute. She wasn't exactly at the height of her power right now, not with the constant warring against Blanc and the direct hit she'd taken last week from some nasty copy protection. If anyone had enough intelligence to find out what she was doing and enough power to interfere, it was the Snakebirds. Especially Kaiser, the black-plumed bird who was permanently connected to Data Memory. 

Instead, she settled for eavesdropping on them as they hovered up in the Crow's Nest, looking down upon the rest of the world like usual, only slightly more literally. She couldn't possibly hide in a place she could see them but there was an intercom up there she could hack to listen in. Disguising her presence from the heavily cybernetic and rather specialised birds took all her energy, so she locked herself in her cabin, over in Business Class.

What she overheard confirmed her suspicions but wasn't quite as bad as she had feared.

* * *

"There's no way that this place was ever meant to be a prison."

"Well, no, its a bunch of converted castles..."

"Not just the buildings. Take the Carbon Freeze system. Its based on a method of cryogenic preservation. It only kills someone if its used wrong, yet that's what they use to execute dangerous prisoners?"

"Ones that can't be killed by normal means, yes. That machine does something to time and space..."

"And whatever its doing isn't destructive. This whole place is a massive time loop."

"That'd make it escape proof."

"It'd also make it impossible to keep track of, which is very bad in a prison. I thought the Warden was up to something but the man has no authority on the mainland, something like this would require top secret Government intelligence to set up - heck, it looks like we did it!"

"We're still not sure what Regina is up to..."

"Regina couldn't have done this on her own, Jack. Its even off the main data memory grid. There are sections we can't scan at all. There are only a few things that can interfere with data memory to that degree and all of them are very, very bad for the world. Its the only reason they let me investigate the place."

"I'm just keeping an eye on Bilan," said Jack, "Although I wouldn't be surprised if the two were related."

"This isn't going to go smoothly, is it?"

"I'll be surprised if we get off this boat intact," he fluttered his wings indignantly, "I suppose I'd better check up on Garian, its been a while."

"Jack... what's going on with that bounty hunter?"

"Apart from him having the emotional intelligence of a thirteen-year-old? I wish I could tell you, Kaiser, I really do…"

* * *

Arfoire noticed what was out of place almost as soon as she stepped off the boat. The cargo hold doors had opened up and two individuals were, with some difficulty, trying to haul the arcade cabinet down the walkway. Dark arcane energy still crackled along its power cable, causing the lights to flicker down it every now and then. The slightly taller, heavier-built of the two very similar looking brothers peered nervously over his shoulder at it and backed further towards the other end of the load, tilting it so that the cables swung away from him. They both wore cargo shorts, tank tops and baggy hats, but then they were trusted enough prisoners that nobody cared that they customised their prison uniforms beyond recognition at every opportunity, so it was hard to tell which version of them she spoke to. 

"Are you lifting that on your own? Where's your supervisor?" she demanded, looking the arcade cabinet up and down. They both gave her a worried glance, recognition flickering in the eyes of the shorter brother for a brief second, causing him to shiver, before he shrugged and went back to being generically nervous around a woman who looked higher ranking than him. 

"Aren't there usually four of you?" she prompted. 

"Huh? We've only just come here..." Dunbar frowned.

"We've met somewhere else before. You're on the development team of that cabinet, aren't you? I'm quite impressed by your work," she smiled.

Dunbar still looked suspicious, "There's Garian, but he's gone off somewhere, we don't know where. He does that sometimes. Skiving off in the pub, probably. Mr. Kubota's probably talking to whoever's in charge here..."

"Kubota, I think that's the one I wanted to speak to. Did you see where Mr. Kubota went?" she prompted. 

Dunbar pointed towards the main prison gates, causing the arcade cabinet to wobble and Matt to have to duck to avoid the swinging cable.

"I need to have a talk with him about safety. I'll get one of the guards to help you in the meantime."

Dunbar shrugged, "Sorry there's only two of us. The boss says we'll be able to hire more when we make it big. Kubota's probably gone to find someone in charge and get help but Garian said he doesn't think we'll make it in time. We're running late as it is!"

"We are, are we?" she frowned, examining her fingernails, "I'll see what I can do. Just stay there. Don't break anything!"

"Never heard of her before," she could hear Dunbar muttering as she turned her back, "Must be some big-shot in this place..."

Nobody has heard of me before on this island, she thought, except maybe in rumours of a dangerous prisoner who was once Carbon Frozen here, just like they don't really know that girl called Tracy who everyone is terrified of, for some reason, like they've all done something really bad to her and the world is going to end if they don't sort it out.

It didn't mean they wouldn't do as she said. She had more seeds of her little projects embedded in this place - not enough to sustain another full demigoddess but a few fragments here and there, enough to preserve some facets of them. 

A few seconds later, Joe and Musashi turned up to help Matt and Dunbar offload their cargo. The beautiful woman who'd asked them so nicely was nowhere to be seen by then, having strolled through the main gates of the prison. Clipped through them, actually, which gave one of the guards a slight static shock when she brushed past them but he assumed it was just the Island's usual stormy weather.

* * *

At the exact centre of the island, down in its furthest depths, Mister Kubota waited for a business meeting in a cafe. He nursed a bottle of 'Jalapeno Juice', apparently the Island's speciality, which stank of cheap alcohol but he didn't want to offend the natives. He'd had to hold his drink for propriety's sake during important business meetings before. He had a growing suspicion that this wasn't exactly going to be a legitimate, over-the-counter deal - why was this place built and guarded like a fortress anyway? - but this wasn't exactly a first for him anyway. He might be selling to some shifty people but he was fairly confident that nothing he sold - mostly arcade cabinets, as well as some sound and radio equipment - was actually dubious. 

Even if he sometimes couldn't remember where he got it from, or when. His life had become like that in a lot of ways anyway. He just kept forgetting things, or everything just felt hazy, as if he was always waking up to find that he was still in a dream. The alcohol, he mused, probably wasn't helping.

Anyway, he'd been told that the Island's Governor was unlikely to deal with him directly, not with how busy everyone had been lately with a bunch of security issues - so he should wait at J.J. City for some representative or other called Bruno. This had turned out to be a tiger-person. Employing two fish-boys in his tiny company, Mister Kubota was not fazed by demihumans. He was, however, a little unnerved by having to use a secret elevator hidden in a workshop in the middle of a park in order to get to this city.

He was even more concerned when a loud roar shook the table and knocked his drink over. The sound sent a shiver down his spine, something in-between a roar, a hissing screech and a gurgle, something less mundane and even more dangerous than an angry tiger-man.

* * *

The dancefloor exploded into splinters, a trapdoor beneath it that he hadn't noticed before flying off its hinges as something clawed and oozed its way out…

Kubota dove under the table, hands over his head, praying to Climax (he wasn't sure when he had begun that habit or even who 'Climax' was but she was in all of his dreams and seemed important enough to pray to, and anything was worth a shot right now) for his life to be spared. The thing had grabbed the bartender with several claws that extended from the mass of green slime, chitinous exoskeleton and giant moth wings that was its body. Where the ooze trailed across the floor or splashed onto the bartender's face, the surface began to disintegrate, leaving behind a foul acidic smell. The screaming from the creature's victim had reached inhuman pitch. 

He closed his eyes and prayed harder. 

Suddenly, he was hit by a sandstorm, or that was how it seemed. A strong gale grabbed him and threw him out of the building, ripping away the door, tables and chairs with it. Clouds of sand swirled within the chaotic winds, as did roses, blue tinged with dark purple, covered in wickedly sharp vines. He covered his face to keep the sand and thorns from entering his nose, mouth or eyes. The creature had started screeching and gurgling even more, its tone different. He heard blades slice, saw flashes of dark purple light, yet he couldn't look directly at the figure that now battled the monster, darting in an impossibly fast, lethal dance, partly because he still had to cover his face and partly because something about that woman - he could just make out that she was a young woman with a purple dress and long jet-black hair - inspired more terror in him than the giant, razor-clawed thing he'd just seen dissolve someone alive.

Suddenly, the storm abated. He was hurled unceremoniously to the floor, his expensive suit now in dust-choked tatters, his jacket gone, pulled off his back and tangled in a bed of thorns. The woman stood over the crumbled, broken thing that was all that remained of her enemy, a puddle of goo filled with splintered bones. 

"Run for it," she ordered in a voice hard and dark-tinged as obsidian, "Get back to the boat!" 

Kubota jumped to his feet, shook himself off and sprinted towards the gantry that led up to the platform that rose up with him on it, back to the park and comparative safety. He was met by a large purple combat cyborg who he didn't recognise as Blade, the notorious Killing Machine who was supposed to be in Carbon Freeze. Largely, the machine was unrecognisable due to how polite it was being as it escorted him back to the boat, shredding the occasional Bilan clones that tried to intercept it. Whenever anything so much as looked sideways at Kubota, the machine whirled into life, chakram blades emerging from its wrists, laser beams burning from its dully malevolent eyes.

* * *

Satisfied, the woman left the ruins of Bar Stalker and walked over to Ponno's, where the company was more civilised. She ordered a Jalapeno Juice and lounged back on a bench. 

"See? I can pay for things when I feel like it," she said.

"That's counterfeit currency," muttered the bartender. The other woman apologised and paid him the difference.

"I owe you anyway," she sighed, "Sorry I had so much trouble with a few Bilanos. They shouldn't have been there right then. Neither should Kubota."

"I can see that. What is this, three timelines mixed up together?"

"There were five but one's predatory. I may need some more help in a moment..."

"This system's breaking down. Even with the time loop resetting everything, its not going to be able to keep you alive forever. You're the biggest drain on its resources, even if you're also its highest priority," Arfoire warned Climax, "You're already stretched between four people, one of them the strongest on the Island except for that Bilano you can't seem to get rid of..."

"I'm starting to suspect that this Garian might actually be possessed by a Bilano himself. Or actually be a Bilano disguised as a human. Either one is bad news, I suppose."

"You suppose? Climax, I've got Tracy holding back the only failsafe on this island and she isn't even one hundred per cent foolproof. Anyway, you're still stuck on a goddamn prison island, in the middle of a time loop of one day. You're not listed anywhere on the system - Histoire's furious with you for letting things get so bad that you died without saying anything to anyone."

Climax let out a deep sigh, "The arcade machine didn't turn on, did it?"

"I only just managed to get it working myself, and its glowing suspiciously purple. Matt and Dunbar think Kubota just used cheap-ass parts again," she folded her arms, "So, what are you going to do? How can I help you and what's it going to cost?"

"Honestly? I'm now absolutely convinced its possible, that its hidden somewhere underneath this mess of a system, but I'm going to need your skills to find it."

"By 'it', you mean...?"

"A way out the other end. A true escape from this nightmare we're all in, one that doesn't lead to another nightmare. A Sixth Parallel."

"'No other way but... to believe in the dream'," Arfoire quoted, sighing wistfully. 

"As for payment..." she reached out a slender hand and placed a lock of long, thick black hair in Arfoire's hand, "I'm running out of pieces of myself, Arfoire, but its better for me as well if something of me manages to get back to the mainland, that I at least exist in some form there. Take another Tracy clone, if you like. It seems to be the only thing I can get off the Island." 

"Moving those is very, very dangerous, you know. I've seen things in the code..."

"So have I, and its a risk I'm willing to take. I have to, when nothing else works," she sighed, "And believe me, I'm trying some messed-up things. That predatory timeline I was talking about, by the way..."

Arfoire sighed, "Show me what you've done and I'll try to help as best I can."

She had to admit, the term 'predatory timeline' sounded fun. She got to experiment more here than she did almost anywhere else. This was still as much her prison as it was Climax's, but, just as with the woman being preserved by all this machinery, these endless time loops that folded in on each other in esoteric hierarchies, some of which tapered off into oblivion if you put a foot wrong, she was more in control here than she could ever be on the mainland.

"'Even after I serve my time'," she quoted, "'I'd like to live here forever."

* * *

A boat’s foghorn sounded as it left the pier, taking with it the four men who had finished offloading their arcade machine and were now toasting their victory on the deck, trying not to think about why they could have sworn they’d just seen the machine back in the passenger lounge, or why the sight before them looked exactly the same as the storm-tossed island they were so sure they’d just left.


End file.
